


Foul and Corrupt, A Maleficar

by GoatBazaarofFics



Series: True Tests Never End [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Character Study, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 05:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12125517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoatBazaarofFics/pseuds/GoatBazaarofFics
Summary: Surana is eighteen when he is told the most important thing in his life: "Simple killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions...careless trust...pride. Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests...never end."Surana is nineteen when he finally learns what Mouse meant.A character study about my Warden blood mage from when he discovers his magic to when he becomes Arl of Amaranthine.





	Foul and Corrupt, A Maleficar

Alim Surana is five.

He plays with his sister Shianni, and they’re cousins. They play barefooted in the largest garbage heap in the Alienage, where beggars dig for items that might be worth something. It’s all he ever known and will know. He doesn’t understand that life could be better, should be better. He doesn’t know how humans see him as nothing more as a _dirty knife-ear_. He’s never heard the term before. He’s innocent, happy. Shianni wants to keep it that way.

She thinks this as she watches Alim chasing Soris and Kallian. He’s the dragon to their knights. Shianni is the damsel in the game of theirs, but she knows in reality she has to be her brother’s knight.

She couldn’t protect Soris and Kallian from _shem._ Not like Aunt Adaia told her too, but she will protect Alim.

Alim stops chasing them around now. His back is facing her, but she can see his small hands curling into fake claws. His cute growling is more like a Mabari pup than what she thinks a dragon should sound like. Kallian and Soris are facing him, their fake swords and shields risen.

“Back you evil beast!” Kallian’s giggling the whole time, and so is Soris, but at least she’s putting up the effort to keep her wooden blade up.

“Hey,” Shianni yells out from where she’s sitting. She’s ‘tied’ to one of the wooden beams that keeps the taller buildings up. “Stop laughing and save me.” But she can’t fight the grin either. Her baby brother is adorable.

They all look the same, really. But Alim…is different. His red hair is an intense. It burns like Andraste’s pyre. His eyes are sparkling gold coins, so different from their dull brown eyes.

 “Shut up,” Soris yells in between his laughing fits. “Aren’t you supposed to be quiet?”

Alim growls again, ignoring the banter around him, he stretches his arms above his head and shouts, “I’m a dragon! Fear me!” He drops his arms forward and pointed them directly at Kallian and Soris.

And a stream of fire shot from his palms.

Alim Surana is five when his world ends. 

 

Alim is seven when he’s taken to the Circle. 

Uncle Cyrion does his best to keep him hidden. But how can you hide a boy who starts fires? Who makes objects explode? Who produces green lights? Who freezes things? Who talks to shadows?

For two years, he hides. He hides his powers. He hides from the other elves. He hides from his cousins. He hides from his sister. He spends two years hiding in his Uncle’s basement. Locked away, until he starts a fire too big to control.

So, Uncle Cyrion tries to flee the city. To find elves who live in the woods. Dalish. He won’t lose another of his own to the shem. He won’t. He won’t. He won’t! But he does and Alim is taken to the Circle.

 

Alim is seven when they cut his arm and make him bleed.

He doesn't like the Tower. The stone walls or stone tables. He doesn't like the fact the windows are too high off the ground. He doesn't like the smell of potions and burnt herbs. He doesn’t like Greagoir. He’s the Knight-Commander. The Templar Hahren. He doesn't like the other Templars either. But he likes Irving, though. The First Enchanter. Hahren to the mages. He likes Wynne more. She's nice and kind. She holds his hand when they cut his arm. She tells him he's a brave boy and they will be done soon. 

But most of all, he hates the itchy purple dress they make him wear. And the slippers. He never wore shoes before. But they make him wear them anyway.

 

Alim is seven when he meets Jowan for the first time. And its when he loses his name.

"Hey, you're the new kid!" 

Alim springs upward. Wide-eyed and panicked.

“Wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Alim turns his head to his right and sees a boy his age sitting in the bottom bunk next to him. The candle light is low, but Alim can still make out the details of the other boy’s face. The boy’s skin is tanner than Alim’s, but not much. His nose is slightly crooked. His face is round, slightly pudgy. His hair is stringy and long, and matches his black eyes. And he's human. Like everyone else.

Alim blinks, but doesn’t answer.

“Um, right, the name is Jowan. And yours is…?” his voice is nasally.

“Surana,” Alim finally answers. He doesn’t know why he says his last name, and not his given name. But he doesm and he's Surana.

Jowan grins. It’s large and infectious. He can’t help but smile back. Jowan is the first kid to say a word to him, other than knife-ear. “Well, Surana, welcome to the Circle!” He holds out his hand to the little elven boy. Without second guessing, Surana takes it.

 

Surana is nine.

He’s been in the Circle for nearly two years. He long has forgotten what life is like outside the tower. He forgot his parents, who died when he was four. He forgot his sister. His uncle. His cousins. The Alienage. He forgot he had a first name.

The only name he had was Surana. The rest isn’t important.

Except for Jowan. He's important too. Surana’s life centers around Jowan and it’s the same for the other boy. They cling to each other. They hold hands when walking to lessons. They sit together during breakfast and dinner. Sometimes, Surana will sneak into Jowan’s bed, and they will stay up and giggle about nothing. Jowan is Surana's only friend in the Circle, the only human who saw passed his pointy ears and small frame. 

And Surana saw passed Jowan's weak magic. 

 

Surana is nine when almost gets them in trouble.

“Why does he watch us?” Surana asks in hush whisper.

It’s bath time, and the mages are forced to wash in a massive, cold room. Both apprentice and enchanter alike share this room. They can sit down on hard wooden benches, or stand. It didn’t matter. They use buckets filled with warm water. They share bars of elfroot soap, but they have their own towels.

There’s no privacy during bath time. Surana has no concept of privacy. The Templars are always watching. And that means they watch during bath time. It’s normal. Surana only knows this. It’s for his own good.

It’s just that, Surana doesn’t like how Ser Thomas looks at him. The way the Templar’s eyes make his skin crawl. It feels wrong, but it shouldn’t. Because Ser Thomas is a Templar and Surana is a mage. It should be normal, but it isn’t.

“Huh?” Jowan looks up from scrubbing his arm.

“Ser Thomas. Why is he watching us like that?”

Jowan looks around to see if anyone is paying attention to them. Most Templars focus on the older boys and men. He shrugs when he sees nothing. “They watch us all the time.”

“But why does he look at us like that? He reminds me of those purple demons.”

Jowan doesn’t get a chance to respond. Surana’s ears twitch, and hears the familiar clank of metal boots on stone floors. They both look up to see Ser Thomas coming toward them. Surana curls into himself. He trembles. He feels Jowan fidget next to him. The other boys who sit on the bench hide their heads. 

“What are you two talking about?”

Surana squirms as he thinks of a lie, “we’re just talking about our, uh, lessons, Ser. Sorry, Ser.” He messes up and looks Ser Thomas in the eye. He doesn’t miss the way the Templar licks his lips. The way his face reddens. The way he looks Surana up and down. How his fingers twitch.

It’s bath time, and Surana feels dirty.

The sound of a soft footsteps breaks the silence. Surana turns around to see an older boy. He’s skinny, tall, and has thick red-gold hair tied in a ponytail. He’s carrying his own bucket of water. Swung over his left shoulder is a towel. He looks like he’s ready to bathe, but he’s still in his purple robes. The sleeves were pushed up and they reveal purple finger prints.

With a certain grace Surana had only seen women have, the older boy steps over the bench and stands in front of Ser Thomas. He drops his bucket and his towel. In one fluid motion, the boy removed his robes. Underneath, there’s nothing except dark, curly blonde hair that bunches around the older boy’s privates. Surana looks away, embarrassed.

“What the fuck are you doing, boy?” Ser Thomas snarls at the older boy.

But the older boy doesn’t flinch, or squirm, or fidget. He stares back, unafraid. “I’m bathing. What are you doing?”

Ser Thomas walks forward. “Watch your fucking tone, Anders.”

Anders fires back. “I’ll watch my fucking tone when you stop fucking kids.”

Ser Thomas slaps the Anders. The blow knocks him over and topples over the bench and on to the floor.

“What’s going on over there?"

Surana looks behind him to see Templars moving in closer, but none of the senior Enchanters do anything. They simply continue on bathing. The Templar who speaks up is older, softer than Ser Thomas.

Ser Thomas coughs and steps back. “Anders is getting mouthy again.”

The other Templar sighs and shakes his head, “Maker's breath, Anders, can’t you behave for one moment?”

Anders smiles brightly, even with his cheek turning yellow and purple. He’s still on the floor, propped up by his arms. “I’m behaving. I’m just taking a bath is all.” He winks at the Templar, and the older man’s face turns red too.

Surana forgets to breathe as the Templars just stand about, with Anders laying naked for all to see. 

But the other Templar shakes his head again and tells Ser Thomas to get back to his post. And that’s it. That’s the end of the confrontation. Nothing else happens. No whippings. No threats of Tranquility. Nothing. Anders sits down and starts washing himself. Surana’s elven hearing picks up him muttering to himself. _Pervert._ Surana wants to ask that means, but he’s scared of Ser Thomas and he’s scared _for_ Anders.

  



End file.
